A Jewish Journey of Identity and Courage

on me. A hush fell over the room as everyone awaited my answer. I thought about Marcus’ story, the lies and the fake photo. “A little bit, yes. Mostly because people treat me as if I’m responsible for what Israel does just because I’m Jewish. Sometimes I’m even frustrated with Israel because things happening there affect how people treat me here.” It was the first time I had voiced that thought, and as the words left my mouth, everyone started talking at once. From what I gathered, I wasn’t alone in feeling this way. A sense of relief washed over me, knowing I wasn’t the only one struggling with these feelings. “Shh… Let’s talk one at a time,” Shelly urged, trying to regain control of the discussion. It took a moment for everyone to settle down. “I can see this is a sensitive subject for some of you. Let’s discuss it. What happens in Israel isn’t controlled by any of us, right?” Everyone nodded, even Emma. “And even though it’s not our responsibility, we still have to take the heat for it,” Tamir said, his voice tinged with anger. “Even twelve years after I left Israel.” “Can you give us an example?” Shelly asked. “Someone wrote ‘child murderer’ on my locker,” Tamir said, his voice breaking as he lowered his head. “Even in history class, when the teacher showed a map of the Middle East and talked about the areas Israel conquered, everyone looked at me like I had anything to do with it.” “That must have been a tough moment,” Shelly said gently, placing a hand on Tamir’s shoulder. Danielle reached into her bag and handed him a tissue. The atmosphere in the room felt heavy with sadness. “Does anyone else want to share?”

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